Sympathy for Crows
by Mad MOAI
Summary: I never intended for a certain blue-and-purple akuma to enter my life so suddenly, nor did I imagine that he would ever be able to relate to something as dark and insignificant as a crow. I always thought all akuma were blood-hungry, merciless creatures - clearly, I was horribly wrong. I learned that the exception was a good companion, and a decent birdwatcher.
1. Part One: First Impressions

"So you must be Allen Walker." I tried to rise to my feet, but the ground was uneven and I didn't expect to be standing on such rough terrain. It took a second try before I finally could bear my own weight and straighten my back. I had been told Allen was short, but to be honest he was around my height and I wasn't known for being particularly small.

"That's right!" The fifteen-year-old exorcist smiled brightly. A gleam of gold drew my eyes as the golem Timcanpy fluttered on his shoulder, in what was probably the equivalent of a wave.

"Okay, good." I let out a breath, the dog-like ears on top of my head relaxing a little. If I couldn't get the main character's name right, I had no clue how I would even survive here. "My name is Lucidia. Pleased to meet you."

Allen held out his hand, and I shook it firmly. "Hello, Lucidia. Welcome to -man."

"Allen, we're wrapping up now." A feminine voice piped up from behind him, and before I could think about whose it was another exorcist approached hugging a clipboard.

"Oh, okay," Allen sighed. He was visibly disappointed, but the brightness returned to his face almost instantly.

"You're Lenalee?" I guessed, a little timidly. I couldn't imagine how embarrassed I would be if I managed to get somebody's name wrong. Alienating the exorcists was not my idea of fun.

"Yep!" Lenalee looked a little bit surprised at first, but her expression relaxed quickly. "You must be Lucidia, then. Welcome."

I was about to reply, but Allen began speaking again. "You arrived at good time," he told me happily. "We're about to finish up for the day, so you can relax until we start up again tomorrow."

I nodded slowly, not quite understanding. I guessed that the characters did a lot of the acting work themselves – not a way I had thought about it before, but it was entertaining to roll the idea around in my head. "Okay, sounds good."

"I have a couple of things to take care of before we pack up. Lenalee can show you back to the base." Allen motioned towards the girl with the clipboard, who smiled in response. The exorcists seemed oddly friendly, but maybe that was just how they were outside the more well-known story of -man.

Still a little disoriented, I started following Lenalee. I attempted to think of something else to say, but before I could come up with an intelligent question yet another voice interrupted my thoughts. "Hey, Lenalee."

Startled, I turned to the source of the voice. Somebody else was approaching, but he didn't look familiar. At all. I panicked a little bit; I couldn't tell whether he was a friend or an enemy.

"Oh, hi, Alma," Lenalee stuttered, rotating herself much more slowly and calmly. Her words weren't quite as confident, though. "What brings you here?"

"I thought I'd say hello to the new girl." This character named Alma smiled amiably, showing pointed teeth. For the last few seconds I had been all but staring at him; immediately I had noticed, a bit nervously, that he didn't wear any clothes, but I relaxed a little when I realized there was no reason he needed to. My eyes traced the gracefully curving patterns on his body, which dyed his skin in various shades of bright blue and purple. As he answered Lenalee, my gaze fell to his face. He had narrow but lively eyes, with vivid sky-blue irises surrounding the slit pupils. Tapering stripes of ocean-blue traveled down his face from his lower eyelids, ending about at the corners of his lips. Fluffy blue and violet hair fell over his forehead, concealing long eyelashes and thick, expressive eyebrows. I noticed his ears were pointed at the tips like those of a cat, which made me want to pet them a little.

I was so absorbed in studying him that I jumped a little when Alma's sky-colored gaze met mine, and again when he spoke to me. "Is something the matter? You're staring a little." His smile turned from friendly to slightly awkward.

Abashed, I dropped my eyes to his feet (which, of course, were mostly purple). I took an extra second to answer the question because I had to form a relatively coherent sentence. "Oh, sorry… Your name is Alma? I'm Lucidia." I looked back up at him after I finished speaking, hoping my voice wasn't too quiet to hear. Meeting new people was not my strong suit.

"Pleased to meet you, Lucidia." Alma bowed his head quickly. I waited until he opened his eyes again and made eye contact, since having to repeat this would be embarrassing:

"You're _beautiful._"

As expected, he blushed vividly, turning his face stripes a bright violet. "Oh, um… thanks. That's nice of you to say that…" He laughed a bit nervously, although I could see in his smile that he did appreciate the attention. When something started moving behind him, I noticed he had a tail – a long, slender one with an arrow on the end that was wagging like the tail of a contented golden retriever.

A rough hand appeared on Alma's shoulder, narrowly avoiding the pointed scale on its surface. "Alma, time to go. The director has a question for you."

Alma stepped aside to reveal Kanda standing behind him. Perhaps approaching from that direction hadn't been the best idea.

Kanda made eye contact with me for a split second, and then broke it intentionally. My ears started pointing back instantly; I had never liked Kanda very much (since he went around frowning all the time). To be honest, he was the last person I wanted to see here, other than the Millennium Earl.

"Oh. All right." Alma started to follow the hastily retreating Kanda. He glanced back at Lenalee and me for a moment. "See you later!"

I thought about replying, but he was already out of earshot before I could think of anything intelligent to say. Alma didn't appear to be uncomfortable with Kanda's presence, but maybe it was just me who had an inherent dislike for the grumpy exorcist.

"It's good you're getting along with… almost everybody," Lenalee piped up. "Don't worry about Kanda."

I shrugged, already aware of the difficulty of befriending Kanda. Instead of worrying about it, I decided to follow Lenalee to the base Allen had mentioned earlier. Was it like a big hotel? Or was it smaller, like a house? I guess I would have to find out.

I spent the night in what was essentially a hotel room. A big and comfy hotel room, but a hotel room nonetheless. I guessed that a lot of the rooms in the building – which turned out to be at least the size of a normal hotel – were around this size, given how many characters there were in -man. I wondered whether Allen had a bigger room, and if so, whether it was because he was more important.

Despite the unfamiliar surroundings, I managed to sleep well. The only possible issue was my odd schedule – I preferred to go to bed at eight and get up at six. I would have to leave my room to find out whether that was too early for everybody else.

Sure enough, by the time I was awake enough to exit into the hallway, it was silent and empty. There were probably people awake in other parts of the building, but none near me. Perhaps the rooms around me were vacant as well.

Fortunately, I was able to find my way downstairs (just go down). Only upon arriving at where I thought breakfast was served did I realize two things: first, this place was actually that big castle Black Order building I remembered (partially), and second, I was far too nervous to talk to that Jerry cook guy this early in the morning (providing he was even awake yet). Fortunately, the doors to the hall were open but Jerry was nowhere to be seen, so I assumed that I would be safe for now. I would have to ask Allen to order breakfast for me later.

It helped calm my nerves that there was nobody else here. Either I was very early, very late, or in the middle of two assigned times for everyone to get out of bed. Lenalee hadn't given me any specific directions before I went to sleep the night before, so I guessed that nobody would hurt me if I went somewhere funny on accident.

I was considering going back up to my room when I heard the giant door behind me swing open. Thinking a stranger would enter, I whirled around in my seat in case I needed to get up. However, I instantly recognized the flowing form of Alma, and let out the heavy breath I had been holding. I felt my ears droop a little above my head.

"Sorry," Alma murmured meekly, stopping in place at the threshold. "Did I startle you?"

I watched the pendulum motion of his tail against the backdrop of the dim hallway. "No, I'm just a little nervous is all." My eyes rose to his – I was glad I was farsighted at that moment, because I could separate all of the shades of blue on his face from my position not so near the door.

"New place?" he guessed, calmly taking a seat next to me. He kept his back bent a little, as though he wanted to keep his eye level at mine. I noticed through this that he was indeed several inches taller than I was.

"Yeah, something like that." I slowly drew my eyes back to the dull browns of the hall. Still empty. "Is it too early for everybody else?"

"Usually," Alma answered cautiously. "Neither the exorcists nor the Finders get up this early unless there's some issue they need to address, and it's peaceful here a lot of the time."

_Exorcists and Finders._ I ran the terms through my head again. My knowledge may have been a bit limited thanks to my unfamiliarity with my surroundings, but at least I knew who the exorcists and Finders were. I stared intently at the table for a few seconds longer before switching my gaze back to Alma. His sky-blue eyes had dropped as well, but rose again to mine when he noticed my head turning.

"You're not either?" I asked carefully, hoping I had interpreted his statement correctly. "You just like to get up early like me, then." The thought made me smile a bit – other people would often think I was a little crazy for avoiding sleeping in.

"Something like that." Alma smiled too, and I heard a hushed _whoosh_ as he gave a little wag of his tail. If he really was one of the few people awake at this hour, he was probably lonely for a lot of the morning. I guessed that he was grateful for somebody to talk to.

An awkward silence ensued. Conversations were another one of my weak points – even small talk was usually outside of my comfortable range. I grew nervous and tried to avert my gaze, but I only ended up admiring his colors. Of course, once I realized I was staring, I looked even further away.

"Is there something I can do for you, Lucidia?" Alma inquired suddenly. "You're acting jumpy."

I felt my ears press against my head. "No, sorry, it's just me," I stammered. "I am a little nervous, since I just got here and all…"

I didn't notice the door open behind me again until I heard a familiar voice. "Hi, Lucidia. I didn't expect you to be here this early."

"Oh, good morning, Allen." I straightened my back quickly. Hopefully having Allen in the room would alleviate some of my stress, since I knew no matter what he wouldn't do anything to make me uncomfortable on purpose. After all, he was a bit like my tour guide. "Yes, I am a bit of an… early bird."

It wasn't long before breakfast did begin – as it turned out, I wasn't more than a few minutes early after all. However, Alma got up and left without eating before the hall got too crowded. I didn't have a chance to ask why, as I was hungry myself, and I managed to confront Jerry with Allen's help. Or rather, I managed to hide behind Allen while he took care of the introductions.

"By the way," Allen piped up a little after we had both finished, "I had something I wanted to ask you about."

I blinked, my ears flicking to each side a little bit. "What was it?"

"I have a more relaxed assignment tonight with a few Finders," Allen began. "There are a couple of nearby places we want to visit by boat for various reasons. As long as we're not reckless, it's not a dangerous mission. Would you like to come along?"

_Come along? By boat?_ Traveling with an exorcist did sound like an interesting sort of vacation. I might as well do something to get more involved – just sitting around mooching off the cast wasn't my idea of fun. "What time tonight?"

"We would leave after it got dark and not return until morning," Allen replied, "so you might want to get some sleep during the day if you plan on joining us. There might be a lot of walking involved, though, so you would have to be prepared for that, too."

I was good at walking, at least. I had the endurance to travel more than eight miles if I needed to, and I could jog for several of those straight. Getting some exercise was tempting, but being nocturnal for one night was not as much. Still, I didn't want to get caught tagging along on a mission that involved killing dangerous akuma, so this might be a good place to start out. "Sure, I'll go. Where and when should I meet you?"

"I'll come to your room," Allen offered. "Be ready to leave around eight tonight."

The thought of going on an overnight voyage with Allen excited me. I wondered briefly whether I would be able to sleep with that expectation.

We rose from the table within a minute or two, and I started for my room with Allen not far behind. We had only gone a few steps into the (now brightening) hallway when a familiar silhouette, becoming a face, strode past. I barely had time to recognize the exorcist; his dark black eyes glared at me for a split second before continuing, presumably into the hall where I had just been.

My steps slowed a little bit, and I couldn't help but shudder. Kanda could have at least ignored me as he passed. After all, I hadn't done anything to provoke him…

"He won't be coming with us," Allen assured me, sensing my unease.

Closing the thick curtains, I did manage to get some sleep that afternoon. I ensured that I was mentally prepared as well – I didn't want to be stuck on a boat or anywhere without my warm coat, for example. Overall, it sounded like quite the adventurous excursion, and it would be impossible to come back and fetch something I had forgotten.


	2. Part Two: War

As he promised, Allen knocked on the door of my room shortly before eight o'clock in the evening. We went outside without much incident – at this hour, there weren't very many people out and about, even if they did go to bed late.

The boat was huge. At least, to me, who had never been on anything bigger than the motorboat, it was. From my point of view it was like a giant pirate ship straight out of some fantasy book. I did have an active imagination, though – it shouldn't be surprising that I would think like this.

The blackness of the night shrouded the inlet, with only the pale yellowish light from the boat's system giving any sort of illumination. I took one last backwards glance at the skyscraping, castle-like building behind me before embarking on the massive vessel, onto an adventure leading me to who-knows-where.

The dark gray water began churning beneath the hull of the boat as it scooted away from the shore. I watched the land disappear into the night with only the glow from the ship to guide us. Clouds concealed the sky as though it hid a secret.

"This is exciting," I mumbled to myself, giving a vague shudder. What sort of things would we discover?

"It is for me, too," Allen agreed. Somehow his presence didn't startle me, even though I didn't expect him to approach from behind.

"The life of an exorcist is constantly exciting, isn't it?" I inquired. I imagined that if I was a member of the Black Order and my job was to hunt akuma, I would have to be constantly on my toes.

Allen shrugged. "A little bit of downtime is always nice, but other than that, yes."

Awkward silence. I probably should have expected it.

"Anyway, Lucidia, there was something important I wanted to tell you."

"But you forgot it?" I asked. Forgetting what I was going to say was one of my chronic ailments, and it usually only struck when I had something very well thought-out in my head. I wondered whether forgetfulness affected exorcists too.

"No, I just wanted to make sure it was relevant." Allen smiled a little – hopefully because my suggestion entertained him. However, whatever he was going to tell me must have been grave, because his lips straightened within a few seconds. "I see you've met Alma. Has he told you much about himself?"

"About himself?" My ears pointed backwards a little bit – this was a strange question to ask on a whim. Since Allen was voicing it, though, it had to be a valid concern, right? Still, I couldn't help but avert my eyes. "Well, not much… I mean, I just got here last night, right? Why – should I know less or more? I don't understand the question."

"That's all right. I didn't nearly expect him to tell you yet, even if you are decently acquainted."

"Tell me what?" Now I was starting to panic – something I usually didn't do easily. At least, not during natural disasters. "Should I know something I don't?"

"The two of you look like you're getting along well, but…" Allen locked eyes with me deliberately. "Alma Karma is an akuma."

"An akuma?" My flicking ears made it clear even to Allen that my thoughts were racing in circles. "But… aren't akuma those big demons with guns in them that kill anything they come across?"

"Sometimes. They come in all different sorts. Alma isn't aggressive or untrustworthy, but he _is_ one of them."

_"Neither the exorcists nor the Finders get up this early." "So you're not either?" _ I allowed a minute or two for my thoughts to settle back together. Either I hadn't caught that Alma avoided my earlier question, or I just hadn't cared. At least that explained the ears, tail, colors…

At last, I came up with something intelligent: I just shrugged a little. "Okay."

Allen blinked, and turned his attention to the water for a moment. "That was an anticlimactic response."

"As long as he doesn't hurt anybody, then it doesn't matter, right?"

Allen murmured something that sounded like "I suppose you're right," but when it was combined with the whooshes of wind and waves I couldn't hear it quite so well.

_Alma Karma._ I repeated his name in my head a few times. _An akuma._ Also repeated. It was a difficult concept to grasp, but somehow the more I thought about it the less I cared. At first it had surprised me (shows what I know about akuma), but I guess it's like listening to the same story ten times – it gets old starting at about repeat number five. I thought back to last night, and this morning. There was no doubting that Alma was an akuma, if what Allen said was true; I certainly had no reason to believe Alma was human with the tail and colors and everything. Despite that, the thought of having an akuma as a friend didn't bother me much at all. He was amiable enough, and definitely didn't seem like the type to randomly become aggravated and kill somebody. He had sounded genuinely happy when I appeared at six in the morning in a place that, to him, was usually cold, empty and isolated.

_Akuma don't eat or sleep, do they? _Now I knew why Alma got up so early, as well as why he promptly left the dining hall without eating anything. It must have been an awfully lonely way of living, having to pass the days without dreaming or tasting anything good. I wondered whether Alma was content with his existence. Did he have any other friends? There were so many questions I had to ask now.

"Lucidia, we're here." Allen's interrupting announcement told me I had probably fallen asleep. I didn't remember dozing off, but then again, I never remember sleeping until I wake up.

The sky was jet black, darker than most skies even on the snowy evenings in the middle of winter. Ahead of the boat loomed the giant cloud-grey shadow of a mountainous island. The landmass appeared small – it couldn't be wider than the Black Order's home – but its sheer height was enough to send me off balance just by looking at it. Well, this was quite the expedition already. However, the spire-like island had nothing in store other than an exhilarating nighttime hike for what was apparently treasure that had never been there in the first place.

It was about a ten-minute travel by water from there to our second (and last) destination for the night: an iceberg. Yep, a big floating chunk of ice that could as well have been solid ground that was frozen over. Personally, I couldn't tell because I'm not into that kind of science, but either way it was cold, slippery, and intriguing.

"Don't stray too far," Allen warned, stepping so carefully off of the boat that he may as well have been descending onto a landmine. I followed suit, and almost tripped myself on the ice with just a little bit more speed. Wondering whether anybody had noticed my insecurity, I regained my balance and followed Allen around a puddle of frigid water surrounded by skyward-pointing icicles.

"What are we looking for?" I asked quietly. The frozen landscape muffled any existing noise so well that I was loath to break the silence.

"We don't know for sure," Allen answered in an equally hushed voice. "If you find anything out of the ordinary at all, be sure to tell me."

"Like those?" I had been running my eyes across the frosted surface of the ice and noticed that the snow-dust was not always evenly distributed. Some lines had been drawn through the powder as though with a finger; either somebody had been here before us or the wind was feeling very particular about its direction tonight.

An almost silent rustling sound signaled that Allen had nodded his head. "Yes, something like that."

I watched the lines in the frost for about a minute more. However, nothing blew around or tried to attack me, so I reluctantly drew my attention away from the ground and to my surroundings. Finders and others were starting to disembark now, moving about just as carefully as Allen had. Given that the iceberg was supposedly harmless, they sure were cautious. Was Allen not telling me something or did he really believe that there was nothing here to hurt us?

"Stop for a second." Allen raised one hand a little bit, as though he was going to wave to me but decided to halt his movement.

My feet did cease their motion. Perhaps something dangerous was going to attack us now. "What is it?"

"The ice is gone." Indeed, the platform ahead of us dropped off sharply, plunging into water that was almost colder and darker than the sky. Allen turned to retrace his steps. "We won't be here for much longer, then. Less space to search."

I blinked, still keeping a few steps behind the exorcist. "We just got here, though. Are we heading back early?"

"We don't have much of an option. Nature happens, I guess."

I lowered my eyes to the ice again, trying to search for something out of the ordinary. We couldn't have just hit a dead end, right? There had to be _some_ reason we traveled all the way out here on a huge boat in the middle of the night.

The ice moved.

I thought I might just be seeing things. Maybe the darkness was playing tricks on my eyes. To make sure, I stared at the suspicious spot on the frost as though doing so might set it on fire. Sure enough, there was a bit of movement, but it wasn't the motion of ice splitting… it was more like the motion of a mole digging its way up out of the ground.

"Allen, something's coming." I didn't bother to check whether he had stopped; I was too busy keeping my eye on the ice.

Within a few seconds the ice had given way to a vaguely humanoid blob, which had risen up out of the frozen surface where the strange scratch marks had been earlier. It had no face or any defining features, but by the way it swayed as though intoxicated, I could tell there was something very unfriendly about it.

"Lucidia, get out of the way!"

My body didn't react in time for Allen's shout. Before I had time to think about what I was doing I had a sharpened, oversized chunk of ice in my hand and had shoved it at the blobby humanoid. A split second later it had fallen back to the frozen landscape and vanished into it.

When my brain finally caught back up with my limbs, I murmured, "What was that?"

"I don't know," Allen responded quickly. "but you killed it."

"I did?" My ears flicked a little bit as I turned to face Allen.

Allen appeared to be just about as confused as I was. A long pause ensued, presumably while he thought. "I can't sense any more of them, but… since we can't go any farther we might as well leave now. Besides, I'd like to get back before sunrise."

I blinked, my ears still swiveling every now and then to ensure that nothing was sneaking up behind me. "…Okay."

* * *

By the time we returned to the island on which the base was located, the edges of the sky were already starting to bleed a pale blue from the oncoming sunlight. The castle-like building loomed overhead, but it didn't seem quite so intimidating as it did the first time when I had no clue what was inside. Ready for a good night's rest, I started towards the welcoming doors. The more I walked, the less I felt my feet would hold me up. My eyes were wandering as well – when I noticed a spot of glaringly bright blue in my peripheral vision I made a double take.

"Oh, hi, Alma."

His cobalt eyes focused as I called his name. He shifted his weight from the wall to his feet and approached me placidly, his tail swinging idly.

"Were you waiting for me?" I inquired, halting my steps.

"Um…" Alma hesitated a little. By his expression I could tell that he was trying to form his thoughts into a coherent sentence. "Sort of. I got a little lonely, and I supposed you had disappeared off to the expedition, but… I didn't want to stop you unless you noticed me, because you look tired. I'm not trying to spy on you or anything."

"That's okay." I gave him a reassuring smile, attempting to reverse the exhausted drooping of my ears. "I am sleepy, but I can stop and talk a little bit if you'd like."

Alma flicked the tip of his tail towards the nearest door, and then gestured with his eyes when he realized I might not notice. "We can keep walking."

I reluctantly lowered my gaze from the ocean-blue stripes on his face and continued to the door. I slinked inside, wanting to stay up and speak to Alma more but loath to stay away from my bed for too much longer.

I had been walking for about a minute when I noticed Alma was farther behind me than he had been initially. Curious, I checked over my shoulder. He was looking backwards as well, although he hastily caught up to me when he saw me watching him.

"Is something wrong?" I asked quietly, unable to raise my voice very high in my fatigue.

"…No. Don't worry." Alma's tone was firm, but I could tell by his hesitation and the strange light in his sky-blue eyes that he was lying.

Still suspicious, I turned back down the hall. I had only taken a few more steps when I heard a very hushed whispering sound. It sounded like a tiny breeze, but there was no wind inside.

This made me panic just a little. I stopped moving, which may not have been the best idea.

"Lucidia!"

I barely had time to hear Alma's voice and start pivoting again before a long object collided painfully with my front, stopping me an inch before I crashed into the wall. Thankfully, I regained my senses within a few moments. Alma had used his arm to move me, rather forcefully, to the side of the hallway, supposedly out of the path of some projectile. My eyes traced it from the bony wrist to the powerful shoulder, which was circled with smooth purple. Alma's tail was tense and rhythmically tapped against the floor like a businessman's fingers drumming on a table when he gets bored. I just now noticed that the lights in the ceiling were too bright and yellow for how late it was.

Just past Alma's piercing blue gaze was Kanda, brandishing an oversized sword. I didn't dare speak; the exorcist's glare was enough to silence my breath alone.

"What is it, Yu?" Alma questioned, a hint of aggression in his normally amiable voice – strange to hear, like a pet cat kept for years that suddenly would hiss at its human companion.

"Let her go," Kanda snarled. The corners of his lips were pulled farther down his chin than I had thought was physically possible.

Alma dropped his arm. "That's irrelevant. What are you doing?"

As fast as lightning, Kanda charged. Faster than lightning, Alma sidestepped, his tail following him reluctantly. I avoided getting my nose cut off by a few inches.

Alma hurriedly raised his hands to about his shoulder level. Contrasting his earlier tone, his face showed shock and perhaps a bit of curiosity. "Whoa, Yu. What's going on? You don't need to attack me."

Apparently Kanda _did_ need to attack, because hedarted forward again, and again Alma dodged almost effortlessly. By this third strike I thought that Kanda wasn't trying to aim as much as he was trying to simply swing his weapon around. Either he was playing, which was unlikely, or he was very angry about something, which was normal for him (from what I could recall of his role in the story, at least).

The two settled back to a standstill. "Seriously, calm down," Alma insisted. His changing tone and expressive eyes told me that even he was starting to panic a little. "Have you lost your mind again?"

This only appeared to provoke Kanda even more, because he launched himself forward with a giant downward swing of his sword. As expected, Alma started to nudge himself out of the way, but something was different this time, because he didn't dodge quite fast enough. The blade fell on his right shoulder, hitting the pointed scale there with a loud _clang. _I watched Alma closely as he spaced himself from Kanda once more. The blue and violet seemed to flow across his skin when he took a wide step backwards. I checked his shoulder – I couldn't see a scratch or dent where the metal had struck the armor-like scale, but that didn't necessarily mean that the strike hadn't hurt.

Alma's tail gradually drooped as he straightened his back. I watched the outline of his ribcage slowly appear from beneath his skin. His sky-blue eyes were clear with concern, the dark lashes hiding them just slightly. "I'm not going to fight you," he told Kanda, his voice quieter but growing shaky. "I'm still your friend. Why won't you talk to me?"

The exorcist's expression didn't change. "An akuma begging for mercy. How cute."

Alma's eyes widened just a little. In the silence of the glaringly bright hallway, I could hear him start to draw a breath from where I stood at the wall. That was right – he wasn't aware that I knew that he was an akuma. Having his identity revealed so bluntly had probably startled him badly. He took a split second to blink, but that was enough for Kanda to charge. His stance was different from before, though. He took advantage of Alma's sidestep and aimed there instead, shoving forward with the back of his sword. Having turned in a circle, Alma was pinned against the wall, the blade blocking him from his collarbone to his left hand, which he had raised in the midst of his dodge. The weapon was dangerously close to cutting his throat.

I felt pressure on my chest and noticed that I had inadvertently folded my hands there sometime in the last minute. My elbows were jabbing painfully into my waist, but I was too focused on Alma to pay attention to that. There was a strange suffocating sensation in my neck. My ears were folded so far downwards that they were ringing.

"Alma," I managed to croak, unsure of whether to step forward to help or backwards to get away from Kanda.

The exorcist's head whipped around to mine. His narrowed black eyes were on fire. "Interfere and you die."

It was then Alma's turn to look at me, although he barely turned his head. There was a glimmer of fear in his vivid blue eyes, and the color almost appeared to be fading. "Stay back, Lucidia," he warned. His voice was trembling audibly.

In my silence, I noticed movement near the floor. Alma's tail was swinging again – it looked like it might jump out and bite something. Kanda took note of where I was looking and followed my gaze. He scowled at the end of the tail for a moment, and then, with absolutely no warning, lifted a foot and stomped on it as though it was a cockroach. I felt rather than heard the ensuing crunch.

Alma cried out, revealing his pointed teeth. His tail was trapped under Kanda's foot, the arrowed tip separated from the rest of the spine. By the looks of it there was no hope for the section in between.

When Alma's jaw finally closed again, a glistening drop had leaked from the corner of one of his eyes, and defied gravity at the top of the blue stripe.

"Now then," Kanda growled, his voice rougher than sandpaper. He flexed his hand just a little, and his blade pressed just a little into the skin of Alma's neck.

_No, no, no… _By now I had lost my strength to speak. Something about watching Alma hurt, trapped and helpless was too painful to watch. In my head I was begging Kanda to stop. Couldn't anybody hear the commotion and come to our aid? As my brain worked frantically to calm itself I realized it couldn't, because I loved Alma Karma.

I had heard before that you never realize something is precious until you're suddenly afraid of losing it. My mind was registering that just then: I feared that Alma would die right then and there, and when he did I would miss him terribly. I couldn't think about what I would do without him because then I would start crying. With this reasoning, I finally noticed that Alma was precious to me, and he had been since I met him. At first I was trying to deny this, insisting that I was too caught up in the situation, and no, it hadn't been long enough since I first met him, only two days or so, but the more I tried to refute my logic, the more it made sense. At the end of a very long five seconds I simply had to admit to myself that I was in love with an akuma.

I had to say something to stop Kanda, anything that would save Alma's life. I was about to simply call his name for the sake of feeling it on my lips when I heard a very familiar voice.

"Stop it, Kanda."

Both Kanda's and my attention turned to farther down the hall. Alma's eyes opened just a little – he had closed them a moment early, perhaps to accept that he was going to die. He still watched Kanda intently, his neck stretched against the wall to keep the sword from cutting his flesh.

"What are you doing?" Kanda snapped, his hands still tense on the hilt of his sword.

"What are _you _doing?" Allen shot back, his face strangely calm. "Put the weapon down."

"I'm doing you a favor," Kanda replied venomously. "Or do you suddenly have a soft spot for akuma like this one?"

Alma's eyes closed again. He tried to turn away from Kanda, but this was near impossible to do without inching his neck closer to the blade. Another tear dripped from the corner of his eyelashes.

"That's irrelevant," Allen protested evenly. "I didn't ask for your interference. Drop the sword, _now_."

The two exorcists spent a few more seconds glowering at each other before Kanda finally gave in, albeit reluctantly. He lowered his blade and took several steps back, his eyes dropping spitefully to the floor. Alma audibly let out a breath I didn't notice he was holding, and his entire body wilted. As his neck bent I spotted a tiny mark in the middle of his throat where Kanda's sword had barely broken the skin.

"Come here, Kanda," Allen continued, his voice hard and commanding.

As the furious exorcist turned and stalked away from his opponent, Alma finally gathered himself and straightened his spine again. His tail drooped pitifully, the end dragging on the carpet, and there were still wet spots between his nose and his face stripes. That was the first time I noticed there was a scar over the bridge of his nose, although I had no clue how it got there.

When the two exorcists finally disappeared down the bright hallway, I approached Alma. He still looked quite shaken from the fight; a certain panicked looseness hung around his expression.

"Are you all right, Alma?" I asked, barely louder than a whisper. I started to reach for his hand or his shoulder, but decided against it at the last minute. He was probably still too uneasy for me to give him any unexpected gestures.

He swallowed heavily. "I'll be fine." His ocean-blue eyes, to which the light was slowly returning, were focused on the floor. His gaze gradually rose to meet mine, and I returned it as steadily as I could; I had known for a while, but never really considered, that love entered through the eyes, but now wasn't a good time to make my confession. Not just yet.

"I'm scared, too," I admitted, wanting desperately to calm him down. "Will you stay with me tonight? To be honest, I'm frightened that Kanda will come back for one of us."

Alma blinked.

"It's a weird request, I know, but… please, I'm scared." I held my eyes to his, still clutching my hands to my chest (they hadn't moved since I first put them there).

After several seconds Alma finally gave a vague notion of a nod.

"We're almost there. Just follow me." I spoke softly, as though I was talking to a bristling wildcat whose eyes and jaws were wide open so that it looked as threatening as possible.

I led him to my room, this time checking on him more often. Not only did I want to ensure that he was behind me, but I didn't want Kanda to be following us again. I opened the door slowly, and it gave a hushed creak of protest. I only stepped into the room once Alma held the door with a shaky hand.

I stepped aside, glancing downwards as he passed into the room. "Is your tail going to be all right?"

"Yes, it'll heal fast on its own." Alma started to smile, but his face darkened again. The light faded from outside as he closed the door – I had to switch on one of the smaller lights to avoid startling my eyes.

"About that…" Alma began quietly. "What Yu – what Kanda said earlier is true… I _am _an akuma." He motioned with one hand towards his chest, and met my gaze meekly but deliberately.

I studied the patterns of light and dark in his blue eyes. "I don't care. I love you, Alma."

Only after I said it did it occur to me that startling him twice in one night probably wasn't a good idea Still, at least he didn't look scared or betrayed. His eyes dropped to the floor, and he slowly turned towards the wall. I examined the profile of his face, exploring the lines and shades of blue. His lips were slightly parted as he tried to process what I had just told him.

He glanced sideways at me. "Is that true?"

"Yes." I bowed my head just a little. "It bothers you, doesn't it?"

He averted his gaze yet again, turning even further away. "No, it's just… I don't know what to say."

A short pause for me to think. "That's all right. I would feel the same way. I know we're supposed to be enemies, but you're really friendly for an akuma, so…" I shrugged, and then realized he wasn't facing me. Maybe talking more hadn't been the best idea.

Another few seconds of silence passed, so I stepped past him and sat on the big fluffy bed. I wanted to get some rest, but to be honest I wasn't very tired anymore – not after all that excitement. With my luck the sun would be up soon. The sky outside the window was still pitch-black, dotted only with light from the stars and moon, but it was impossible to tell how much longer it would stay that way.

I glanced back to Alma. He was staring at his feet, but the moonlight was staring at him just as intently, dyeing his entirety in a soft cyan. His own blues appeared to glow in response, illuminating his downcast face. My eyes wandered along his form, tracing the outlines against the blackness of the room. Not for the first time, I noticed his knees. Earlier they had unnerved me – they appeared separated from his legs, as though someone had carved them out to and then decided that they fit better where they had been previously. Only by then the area the artist had removed was too large and so the kneecaps had to be awkwardly hot-glued back into the gaping holes that had been torn away. At first I found this physical trait strange, if not repulsive. By now, though, I had learned to admire even this part of Alma's form. When he walked his legs would bend as flawlessly as any others, and his confident steps made moving gracefully look as easy as breathing.

"Are you okay, Alma?" I asked gently when he still wouldn't look up at me. "You can leave if you would rather not be here."

His cat-like eyes finally rose in my direction. In the night's brightness, they appeared more alabaster-white than any other color. "It's not that – I'm fine. I've just been thinking." I intently watched him approach the bed, his gait as light and elegant as ever. He seated himself at the foot, as far away from me as he could get while still sitting on something. I wondered briefly whether this was intentional. He curled his tail on top of the sheets; the pointed end still drooped like a willow branch, and stuck out at a strange angle even though the rest was curved neatly. "You actually… not many people talk to me as much as you do. After you showed up I got lonely fast. Anyway, I imagine that if you do… feel that way, then I should tell you more about who I really am."

"Who you really are?" I echoed, growing curious. I wasn't sure whether to be excited or alarmed that Alma trusted me this quickly. Then again, if anything I was the one who had believed in him too fast.

"Yes. There are certain things about myself that I keep from most everyone else here. My past, mostly, but since you trust me like that, you do have a right to know."

I studied his face for a little longer. His clear blue eyes had clouded and turned down again, hiding themselves from the moonlight. He still wouldn't look directly at me, even when I mentally urged him to make eye contact.

"You don't have to if it hurts you," I told him softly. "People are allowed to keep some secrets to themselves." By the way he kept is gaze on the floor, I guessed that he either wasn't confident that he could share his story with me, or what he did want to share still bothered him even now. I still didn't know myself whether I wanted to hear the details of Alma's existence.

He stared purposefully at the floor for a few more seconds. At last, he exhaled audibly and then straightened his neck. "All right."

He finally made eye contact with me again, albeit slowly, almost reluctantly. "Like all akuma, I used to be a human," Alma began, a little quietly. "Yu has been my friend for as long as I can remember. We were exorcists-in-training, I guess."

"Exorcists?" I interrupted. That was the last thing I expected to hear.

"We had a sort of Innocence. Actually, I still do." He raised his forearm in front of him as though there was an interesting beetle perched on it. Nothing happened. "I wish I didn't."

"Why not?" I was going to say that there were probably people who existed who would kill to have the chance to be an exorcist and hang out with Allen, but this idea didn't come to my head fast enough for me to voice it.

"Because it's killed people." Alma brought his arm close to his chest like he was trying to keep it from falling off. "Everything fell apart. Somehow I was convinced I had to kill them, the ones who watched over us, so I did."

A long pause ensued. Alma had returned to staring intently at his feet.

"Then, in return, Yu killed me."

_You died? _was what I was about to ask, but I kept my mouth shut so my brain could catch up. Akuma were technically people who had died and were revived by somebody who wanted them back, right? I noticed that Alma had probably just skipped over a large portion of his memory. I couldn't tell whether this was because he honestly couldn't remember or because it was a secret too precious to give to even me.

"As far as I know, anyway… I was asleep for a long time after that, so all I know is that the Millennium Earl found me sometime, and made me into an akuma." His right hand moved from his front to over his opposite shoulder, coming to a rest against the scale. I recognized this motion as something I usually did when something was worrying me and I was trying to calm down. "I thought I would be fine after that, but then Yu came along again, and I had to fight him. I didn't want to, but I had to – I was angry, but… I didn't mean to take it out on him.

"Allen was there, too. I couldn't tell which side he was on, but I think he just wanted the fight to stop. I wish I could have listened to him."

Silence descended across the room for a moment. I suddenly noticed that I was sitting closer to Alma than I had been when I first settled down. Wondering more about this, I realized that it was because his voice had gradually lost volume, and was now barely above a whisper. I didn't remember him blinking in the last few minutes; his blue eyes seemed brighter than normal (even though they were inhumanly vivid in the first place) and were constantly focused on the floor.

"We practically killed each other. By some miracle, we were both alive at the end, but just barely." Pause. "I didn't see Yu for a long time after that."

Silence again. I thought the rest of the night would just continue on in total silence when Alma suddenly put his hands over his downturned face, obscuring the cobalt-blue light from his eyes. "I don't want to hurt anybody anymore. I've killed too much… the others are dead because of me." His voice was a muffled whisper.

Speechless, I sat and kept my focus on him for a while. I was considering how far I would have to extend my arm to reach him when his shoulders unexpectedly shook as though they were going to fall apart.

As he drew in a ragged breath, a choking sensation gripped my throat. Alma was crying. A mindless, emotionless killing machine that sought only to evolve was crying, quietly shedding tears as though there was no one around to hear.

I said his name gently and reached for his shoulder – slowly, as I expected him to notice and lash out at me. However, he didn't respond even as I rested my hand there (I made no attempt to avoid the scale, since I had taken a liking to it, and doing so might offend him anyway). I watched helplessly as he sat with his face covered, shuddering occasionally. His back and arms looked fragile, as though they would shatter any second. I immediately decided that I never wanted Alma to cry again.

I tried inching closer, just to comfort him, and wondered whether anybody had ever been this physically near to him before. For several seconds, he seemed to ignore me, but the next thing I knew I had both arms around him and his head was against my shoulder. I never recalled how I closed the distance between us, but I didn't care as long as Alma wasn't so sad anymore. I didn't close my eyes for fear of falling asleep. Instead I let my ears rest flat against my head and I just focused on our awkward embrace, trying to will Alma's breathing to return to normal.

Eventually, I decided it had been too long since I spoke. "It's all right now," I told him softly, unsure of whether it was true, but certain that I meant it. "It's all right."

I attempted to count the seconds but lost my train of thought after three. At some point Alma's breathing slowed, and we were in what felt like perfect stillness for just a moment. Then he straightened himself and inhaled deeply. His eyes were still damp with tears, but his face was relaxed and practically emotionless.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, not avoiding eye contact anymore. "I should probably…"

My ears perked back up. "It's getting late. I should probably get to sleep now before the sun rises on me." Before Alma had time to respond I flopped back on the pillow. "If you'd like, you can leave. Just don't worry about anything anymore."

I fell asleep before I could see his reaction. The following morning I noticed two things: Alma was warm, like a human; and the sun had waited for me to rest before it rose for the daytime.


	3. Part Three: Crows

Three days later, I slept in. Normally I was immune to sleeping in – that is, I would wake up at six in the morning whether I liked it or not.

By the time I got downstairs the dining room was already crowded. My brain was still muddled with sleep, so I didn't notice Allen until he called out to me.

"Hey, Lucidia, good morning." His voice was friendly, but awfully loud in my ears. I wondered briefly whether I should go back to sleep.

"Good morning, Allen," I responded mindlessly. "I'm a little tired. And hungry."

There was a short silence as I seated myself. Allen lagged behind a little. "Alma hasn't been here this morning. Is he with you?"

"What?" It took my ears several seconds to process the question. The unexpected mention of Alma's name had startled me a little, but at least I was awake now. "No, I haven't seen him for days."

Allen didn't mention him again. I was a little worried about Alma, but I managed to stay calm until lunch, to which Lavi unexpectedly tagged along.

"How've you been liking the Black Order?" was his first question.

"It's fun," I responded, rather calmly. It was enjoyable to explore a new place like this, especially when most people seemed so welcoming. A hint of danger didn't hurt, either. (I was still exhausted from the outing with Allen before.) I noticed my answer was a bit vague.

I also noted that Lavi liked gyoza, which were my favorite food as well.

"Have you made a bunch of friends?" he inquired enthusiastically, his smile widening by the second. I had only just met Lavi in person and I already could tell that a frown from him would be unusual.

I shrugged humbly. "I don't know about a bunch, but… sure. Allen's nice, and…" I trailed off absently, glancing at the exorcist beside me. Allen appeared too absorbed in his meal to be listening.

"Is that a no?" Lavi jumped ahead, cutting off my protest. "I guess there are so many people here it's difficult to meet them all, now isn't it?"

"It is," I agreed. Conversation had never been one of my strong suits, but somehow Lavi's energy made it easier to answer questions. He almost was like a ten-year-old kid, although since he was an exorcist he must be older than that…

"She made fast friends with Alma," Allen suddenly piped up.

My ears flipped back within an instant. The unexpected change of subject had startled me again, although as before Lavi commented before I could interject. "Wow, really? That's impressive. That guy is really something else, you know…" He sounded like he was going to wander out onto a story but had stopped himself before he got too far off-track.

"I guess he is." I gradually relaxed again, although my eyes fell to the table as I did so. Upon noticing this, I looked back up at Lavi. He was watching me closely, but didn't say anything else on the matter.

Thanks to Lavi's mood, the rest of the afternoon was lighthearted and easy. I managed to relax a little as the day went by, only stepping outside onto the fire escape in the evening to watch the sunset. The wind was chillier than I expected, so I had to hug my coat to my torso. The ground below was covered in a thick frost, or maybe it was snow. Either way, the bluish whiteness dusted the scenery in a soft greyscale palette. I relaxed a little at the sight, as I far preferred cold to hot. It was nice to have some icy weather once in a while, too; any temperature above seventy degrees tended to make me uncomfortable.

I watched some trees wave gently in the wind for a few minutes before a familiar voice flew to my ears. "Hey, Lucidia."

I looked around, ears pricked to locate the sound. It took me about a second to turn all the way around and glance up at the roofs, the only place I hadn't considered. Perched upon a low one like a resting pigeon was Alma.

I said his name to myself just to make sure my vision wasn't tricking me. "How did you get up there?"

"Like this." With a mischievous grin in his cerulean eyes, he propelled himself forward with one bare foot and dropped seven feet to the balcony on which I was standing. I heard the whoosh as he landed, and I had to take a few steps back to make sure his tail didn't smack me on the way down. "Except in reverse."

I felt my mouth open a little bit. "That makes sense," I lied, unsure of how else to respond.

"You should come up here, too. The view is great." He was still smiling widely.

"Uh…" Again, I was at a loss for words. As an akuma, maybe Alma could leap seven feet to the next rooftop, but the highest I had ever jumped was four feet and ten inches in junior high school. "Sure, but –"

"Okay, hang on tight!" In the space of a second, Alma's grin revealed several of his sharpened teeth, and something came up from under me and gave me a terrible falling sensation, even though I was rising. It took me several moments to register that Alma had picked me up, and he was now standing on the roof he had been previously, except this time he had brought me with him.

As usual, I wasn't sure of what to say. One of Alma's arms was holding up my shoulders, and the other was below my knees. His grip was strong and sure, but the limb beneath my back felt terribly thin, as though it belonged to someone who hadn't eaten in a week.

I felt my ears grow hot. I looked up at his face speechlessly, from which the smile was slowly fading. I could have sworn I saw his pointed ears droop a little. "Sorry. I probably scared you a little."

"No, it's fine. That was sort of fun." After a few moments of consideration I let myself slide onto the roof. Thankfully it was relatively level, and despite it being a little bit icy I could still keep my balance rather well.

"Wow, the view really is different from up here." I surveyed the frosted land below. Though I hadn't gained much altitude, the trees already appeared to be at such a different angle. The green of the pines was faced to the frozen ground, and the snowy tops pointed to the darkened gray sky. "Good thing I'm not afraid of heights… usually…"

Silence followed, broken only by gentle whispers of wind. I turned to Alma. "Are you okay? You're being sort of quiet."

"Yeah. I'm just looking." His response was quick, but his blue eyes were clouded and unfocused despite being set on the scenery. His tail constantly swung like a mindless pendulum, flicking a clear line in the frost behind him.

I slowly drew my eyes from Alma. They settled on a tree not too far away, in which was perched a pair of birds. Their plumage was as black as a peaceful, quiet night, their distant eyes watchful. One had its head drooped and looked as though it was about to fall asleep; the other sat directly beside its companion, sifting through the other bird's neck feathers with a careful beak.

"Two crows allopreening," I muttered to myself, familiar with the observations of amateur birdwatching. I noticed I hadn't seen many birds recently, even though I always kept an eye out for them. Maybe winter wasn't the best season for them.

I could almost feel Alma's sky-blue gaze follow mine. The pair of birds sat together for what seemed like an hour until the one that appeared to have been napping suddenly stepped away and hunched on the branch by itself. It had only been a few seconds before this crow's companion shuffled over and reached for its friend's neck again. In protest, the first bird sidestepped away again. The whole cycle repeated at least three times, coaxing a chuckle out of my lungs.

"That one's persistent," I commented absently. I was about to get bored of watching them play chase when the first crow unexpectedly flopped sideways and almost hung upside down from the branch for a moment. It had unknowingly reached the end of the tree limb, and looked rather ruffled at having doing so. Its friend, on the other hand, had finally given up its pursuit and settled into preening itself rather than its neighbor. By now I was actually laughing, albeit quietly since sound tended to carry farther higher up. (For whatever reason I was a bit self-conscious about my laughing at the time.) "That is too funny. Did you see that?"

I glanced back at Alma. He was smiling now, a quiet light flickering in his eyes. "I did. I didn't know crows acted like that."

"They're pretty goofy. Although, everybody always assumes crows are dirty and evil, just 'cause they live around people and they have black feathers. Really, they're just like other birds – they're songbirds, actually, like sparrows and robins – they just sing their own song and try to live like other birds, but the humans have to get in their way and give them a bad reputation they don't deserve. Not a lot of people pay attention to them long enough to see how they actually have minds and personalities and families, like other birds do. People just don't give them enough credit for how nice they are."

I watched the crows for several more seconds before I checked on Alma again. "Do you like crows, Alma?"

"I haven't thought about it much. I guess I do." His answer sounded unsure, but he still appeared entertained by the birds' affectionate antics.

By now we were both sitting down. The frosty roof didn't bother me much at the moment. Alma rested his arms on his knees and in turn put his chin down. He seemed contented just to watch the crows for a while, even if they really were just sitting there.

I shivered a little. "Aren't you cold?" I asked, although once I did I thought it might be an odd question.

Alma shrugged. "Not really. I can feel that it is cold outside, but I don't react to it, and it doesn't bother me."

_It must be part of being an akuma. _I was careful not to mention this aloud, since I guessed that Alma might not like being so different all the time. I tried to shove the thought out of my mind and turn my attention back to the crows. I heard a gentle scraping noise behind me every so often as Alma's tail continued to swish back and forth, the pointed tip leaving a curved break in the frost on the roof.

The silence, peaceful this time, surrounded the frosted world for a few more minutes. The sun had faded mostly behind the horizon now, leaving only a trace of purple in the sky, which was now clinging to its last bits of blue. The giant star waved its rays goodbye and was gone, dashing the shiny, icy landscape in relative darkness for another twelve hours. Almost in reflex, the crows tensed, leaning down on their slender gray legs.

Then unexpectedly, the crows flew, leaping off of their branch and fluttering their jet-black feathers. They dropped a bit before they rose, flapping their wings as though being chased. I had to duck quickly, as I didn't notice them flying directly over our heads until they had practically already done so. I watched them dance around the corners of the building before disappearing behind the greyed ice and mist.

I stood up so I could reach the last glimpses of the two birds before they vanished. A chilly wind brushed my ears, and I hugged my coat close again.

Alma rose to his feet gracefully as he too saw the crows fly away. "I guess I understand how they feel. The crows, I mean." His feline eyes stayed in the same place for a long time, even after I stared at him and willed him to move his attention.

"Anyway," he began, at last turning to look at me. He was still smiling. "It's getting late. You probably want some help getting down from here, don't you?"

"Uh… sure. I'd like that." It was hard to come up with a response to that cheerful face very quickly. I got too distracted trying to find all of the different streaks of blue in his catlike eyes.

"All right, then. Hold on tight."

For whatever reason I was a little nervous at the thought of returning to the balcony. Now that I bothered to look directly downwards, it was disorienting being so high above the icy world. Some comfort arrived in the form of Alma's arms gently taking my weight. Clearly he was trying not to startle me this time.

I noticed that my head was quite close to the crook of his neck. If I rotated one ear far enough I could feel where his collarbone was. "You can jump now," I muttered.

The descent was quick and a lot less surprising than I expected. Alma's feet landed on the fire escape, one after the other, each with a dull thunk. Once the world around me stabilized again I let my feet touch the ground and support my weight, but my one ear left its niche slowly as though it wanted to stay behind. I got the message after a few seconds – my head didn't move, either. "Good night, Alma."

"Good night, Lucidia." I didn't realize my ears were so close to his mouth.

"What?" Alma's voice snatched my attention. Somehow several seconds had passed without my notice. "Are you all right, Lucidia? You're staring a little."

"Oh." My eyes came back into focus; they were fixed somewhere near his face. "Sorry. I guess that…" My thoughts wouldn't come out of my mouth in coherent words. I couldn't really even tell what I was thinking in the first place, either. A little uneasy, I made myself turn away from Alma.

I couldn't see him anymore, but I almost felt him smile again. "You get some sleep." A short pause. "I like you, Lucidia. You're a nice girl."

Something warm landed on top of my head. Alma's hand scratched my ears as though I was a dog, and they slowly turned back against my skull. My legs wouldn't move as long as they stayed there. I realized how sleepy I was – after all, the sun had already set.

"All right, that's enough." I couldn't help but chuckle. Sometimes my ears seemed to have a mind of their own, although they were really only there to express my emotions somewhere other than my face. I reached up to remove Alma's hand from my head. Half of a second after my fingers closed, I stopped. I was startled by how well I could feel the contours of his right hand. As though I had never felt a hand before, I mindlessly intertwined our fingers. His were thin and bony, but they had a firm grip to them as though they only sought to comfort somebody.

I took my arm back and silently turned back for the door. Even that night before I fell asleep I could still imagine the outline of Alma's hand in mine. His grasp had been lonely, not as though he wanted me specifically to stay there on the balcony, but as though they had never touched a living thing before that had survived to tell the tale.


	4. Part Four: Memories of War

I was oddly hungry the next morning, so I left for breakfast at the normal time – too early for much anyone else to be awake, but early enough for Allen to be present in a few minutes. The lights weren't on very brightly at this hour, although that gave me time to adjust to the day before it actually got here. I sat down peacefully at one of the far tables and fuzzily tried to remember what happened last night.

I still couldn't quite grasp my thoughts, so I rested my head on the table for a while. My ears drooped a little – all I could remember from the previous night was a bit of snow, ice, and some cold… not to mention –

I straightened my neck. The door whispered closed, nudged by a thin, gentle hand. The span of time it took Alma to blink and look at me felt like several minutes from how intensely I watched him.

I struggled to think of the right greeting, and realized I had done the same thing the night before. A bit flustered, I sat in silence.

"Hi again, Lucidia." Alma's soft smile made the rest of the room seem dark.

"Good morning, Alma," I finally stammered. Fortunately, I managed to compose myself a little more before Allen entered.

I gradually regained my ability to speak to Alma over the next few mornings. Each day when I arrived at the dining room he would be present, and not long after Allen would also appear. I never found out why Alma had been absent for several days before, but it didn't really matter what the reason was as long as he was still here now.

I sometimes met Alma in the hallways, too, at random intervals later in the day. These times I always stopped to at least exchange a few words; I concluded that, subconsciously, I valued any time I could see him or talk to him, since his presence was rather spontaneous and so I never knew when I might cross paths with him again. It took me a while to notice that he was only around when nobody much else was there.

I didn't bother counting the days, but at some point Allen came to breakfast several minutes later than usually. He approached Alma and me urgently, more so than on other days. I asked him what was wrong, and he replied that Chief Komui wanted to see us for a minute.

"Us?" I echoed. "As in… us three?"

"That was what he told me." Allen sounded equally perplexed.

Alma and I glanced at each other as though we were plotting something. A spark of anxiety flicked through his blue eyes – the idea of standing in front of Komui clearly wasn't an exciting one. I thought the same thing, mainly because I knew Komui could be a bit of a goof sometimes, but I couldn't be sure that Alma's reasoning was identical to mine. He was the first to stand up; I watched him carefully before following suit. My eyes had always been glued to his movements, not because I was trying to deduce anything about them, but because his motion seemed so different from that of everyone else. He carried himself confidently, but there was always a hint of instability in his posture. I couldn't quite think of why this might be so. At the time, I was unaware that I would soon get an opportunity to find out.

Komui turned out to be more serious than I had expected. The three of us present, accompanied by some Finder (I never paid much attention to them), were supposed to investigate again. The objective was similar to that of the expedition I had taken with Allen earlier, except thankfully it wasn't in the middle of the night. I was wondering why Komui had chosen us three, as in my opinion we were an odd team, but I didn't have the authority, let alone the confidence, to question him.

"And you _will_ have to take the train on the way," Komui concluded, "so make sure you bring everything you might need."

"A train?" I repeated.

"Yes, a train." Komui appeared to wonder what was so surprising.

"Oh good." To be honest I was excited about riding a train – probably more so than I needed to be, but I didn't see anything bad coming from my being overenthusiastic.

Allen led me to what felt like a basement. When a bit of light returned, we were standing next to a deliberately carved underground waterway. I thought for a moment it might be a sewer, but the place was awfully clean, suggesting that it was used for transport more often than I had initially imagined.

With Timcanpy perched firmly on his shoulder, Allen stepped down into a long rowboat I hadn't noticed was there. "We'll head out as soon as Alma gets here."

"You mean now?"

I didn't even have to turn around to know that Alma had appeared behind me with a mischievous smile. I almost didn't bother to look back. At the last moment, I reconsidered, but by then his light footsteps had already landed in the boat.

When I finally did look at Alma, my ears went back for a moment. Had I not already known the answer, I would have asked why he was wearing a long, storm-gray cloak. I noticed how strange my perspective was; most people would wonder why their friends would go around wearing nothing, but here I was, perplexed by Alma suddenly concealing himself with a cloak. Everything logical was against me, so I kept my mouth shut. Still, I was a bit uncomfortable seeing Alma wear anything, as any other person might be uncomfortable seeing their friend without any clothes on. I decided to silence my brain before it could ramble any more.

I'm pretty sure I annoyed Allen on the train a little. I was very enthusiastic about sitting next to the window and watching the scenery, as though doing so would give me some important revelation on life.

My travel companions were silent. Again, I wondered what had possessed Komui to choose us three to go on any sort of mission: an expert exorcist, a simple human, and an akuma who was afraid of fighting. I wondered whether Komui was aware that Alma disliked conflict.

I turned my eyes away from the window. Allen appeared to be asleep; the Finder had evidently wandered off somewhere else; Alma was sitting alone opposite me, the long cloak completely hiding his body below his neck. His head drooped forward a little and his eyes were closed, but his expression wasn't soft enough for him to be sleeping. He looked terrible isolated resting there by himself.

I hadn't noticed before that the blue stripes on Alma's face started from his eyelids.

Forgetting the exciting world outside the train, I crossed noiselessly to the opposite seat and positioned myself next to Alma. Within moments his sky-blue eyes opened and turned gently to me.

"Can I sit here?" I asked quietly. "You look lonely sitting all the way over here."

"Sure." Alma's response was delayed, but he smiled softly. He was about to add on, but clearly decided against saying anything else.

"Do you sleep, Alma?" The question was unexpected, but I had been meaning to ask for a while; now seemed like a better time than any other.

He hesitated, and then shook his head slowly. "I can rest, or be unconscious, but nothing in between. No, I don't sleep."

_So I don't have to worry about waking you up._

I waited a minute or so until the topic had left his mind. Then I started to wonder how close he would let me sit to him. Eventually I decided that I didn't need to furtively scoot over; just keeping him company was enough.

"Thanks, Lucidia." Something told me Alma had decided to voice something that had been on his mind since I sat down. "You're a nice girl."

I suddenly remembered the evening we had spent together several days ago. Alma had said the exact same thing then.

"Will you pet me again?" The sensation of his hand on my ears was my strongest memory from that meeting – even stronger than that of our hands together.

He didn't answer, but slowly extended his right hand from the gray mass of the cloak. I took that as a yes.

I closed my eyes and let his fingers run through the soft black fur on my ears. They flattened contentedly against my head, and I noticed myself leaning gradually towards Alma so that his stroke would be firmer. I briefly opened one eye to check my surroundings. Allen was still napping, and the Finder was still nowhere to be seen, so I let Alma pet my ears for a little while longer.

I almost didn't realize how silent it was with my ears pressed against my skull most of the time, but once I did I felt the need to say something. "I love you, Alma."

"I know."

Eventually his hand left my ears, but I couldn't tell when; I hadn't been keeping track of the time. Instinctively, I looked outside – the landscape was beginning to slow down a little. Either that or I was falling asleep.

"Are we almost there?" I inquired, somewhat dreamily. My ears still felt fuzzy where Alma had stroked them.

"I think so." His voice was still oddly quiet, as though he was nervous that someone would hear him.

The train ride was over rather quickly. It was awkward for me to watch Alma stand up when I could only see his head; I was so used to being able to watch his arms and legs and tail and everything move, too, that there was something unsettling about just looking at a gray blob with a head attached.

Now that we were actually at our destination I was beginning to get nervous. Was our task dangerous? Were we going to come across any violent akuma? Would we find Innocence? I somehow hoped we wouldn't split up, because the thought of being relatively alone in the middle of an unfamiliar place – even with Alma – was scary.

My ears stayed down as I looked around outside. There were few trees, and the land was rather flat, apart from a tall hill in the distance. Somewhere nearby there was a forest, although it was hard to imagine many plants in a place like this. There was no saying that we were going to stay in this vicinity, though. To be honest, I liked the idea of going hiking.

The sun was still in the sky, so our group decided to go for a walk to get a starting point. We were heading away from the train station, so the landscape was all but devoid of people. It seemed as though we had landed in the middle of nowhere. Of course, I tried to stay closest to Alma. I could tell he still walked confidently; I tried to imagine how he would be moving under the big cloak. With my ears pointed downward I could hear his light footsteps on the loose ground. I wondered whether it was necessary for him to consciously hide his tail; would the movement of the cloak conceal it anyway?

"You okay, Lucidia?" Alma's voice startled me a little - I had been listening so closely to his walking that I had forgotten that there was any other noise.

"I'm a little nervous," I answered, keeping my eyes on the ground. "We've come a long way, and there's not really anything here…"

"Komui wouldn't send us here for no reason," Allen responded carefully. "There has to be Innocence or something like that nearby."

I should probably have a little more confidence. It wasn't as though Allen was inexperienced with akuma attacks, so I didn't have anything to worry about, right? I couldn't fight, but the others could. I had no clue how Alma would react in a conflict; the only quarrel in which I had seen him participate was the fight with Kanda, and he had barely even reacted. I looked up at Alma. He still appeared sure of himself, and it wasn't as though I didn't trust him, but I still couldn't help worrying just a little.

"Are there any akuma around?" Alma suddenly asked, with a deliberate glance to Allen. I thought it a weird question from him, since he himself was an akuma, although I couldn't say that for an akuma he was terribly normal.

"Not close to us, as far as I can tell," Allen replied promptly. He kept his head straight forward, as though he flat-out refused to look at Alma.

How long had we been walking, anyway? I had lost track of the time staring at the ground and listening to Alma's feet. The angle of the sun had definitely changed, but I couldn't tell by how much. Good thing I wasn't in charge here, or I would get us all lost.

When I finally looked up I noticed there were more trees now. A lot of them were evergreens, although I had no clue why. Alma's blue eyes were focused straight ahead, as though he had a target in the distance towards which he was headed. His steps still sounded strong and deliberate, but his face looked different somehow, almost as if his confidence was faltering.

"I don't know," Alma suddenly piped up, his gait slowing. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Now Allen stopped too. He looked back at Alma, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking; he didn't have the same markings that made every subtle change in Alma's expression obvious. "All right. What's wrong?"

This time I was sure his pointed ears swiveled back a little. "Look around. There's something a little off about this place." I imagined Alma's tail swinging close to the ground and tapping it every so often with anxiety.

Allen did as he was told, almost turning in a full circle. He moved cautiously, but never hesitated. "Maybe, but I don't see anything in particular."

"There's something here." Alma's lips were parted. I could almost feel his breathing, as though he was running and somebody was chasing him. He reminded me of a cat opening its jaws to taste the air, to search for a fox that has invaded its territory.

I pricked my ears carefully. I couldn't hear anything approaching, but there was a strange sound in the air, as if a machine was running somewhere far away.

"I hear a funny noise." I didn't know whether I was speaking to Alma or Allen; the latter seemed more puzzled, more clueless, as though his senses were dulled.

Alma breathed to say something else, but before he could speak he was interrupted by a loud boom that flattened my ears against my head. Suddenly dust completely blocked my vision and glued my feet to the ground. I was paralyzed until my senses returned with the next bang – then I realized I was in danger. I still couldn't make out my surroundings, and I didn't know which way to turn or run. I wanted to call out for Alma, but I couldn't decide whether it was better to stay silent or to chance detection by whatever was making the noise. I tried reaching out with one hand, but Alma wasn't standing where he had been previously.

My vision refused to return. Continuous thudding noises kept my surroundings obscured, so I helplessly stayed put and swiveled my ears in circles, trying to pick up a sound other than that of dull booming. Whatever was generating the noise didn't appear to be moving any closer to me, but there was still nothing productive I could do.

I counted the seconds I stood there, a nauseous feeling slowly creeping up on me. I suddenly wondered whether anybody would still be nearby when the smoke cleared.

My mind reached the number twenty just as the banging skipped its regular interval. I listened harder; silence was beginning to descend around me, bringing the dust down with it. As outlines of the landscape reappeared, I realized my environment was not at all what it had been a minute before. Had I run somewhere without noticing? No, I was sure my feet had stayed where they were. Then how was the land around me suddenly so bare, when just minutes before it had been dotted with trees?

As I feared, I could see neither Allen nor Alma, even when I spun in a full circle. I listened as hard as I could, but my ears stayed pressed back and I couldn't pick up any noise other than the occasional gust of wind.

"Alma!" When I cried his name I felt tears rise to my eyes. I was alone, and the most I could do was hope that the others were alive somewhere far away from here.

I repeated his name, spinning myself in circles. I was too scared to move more than a couple of steps, thinking that if I did I would promptly get myself lost. Again I called, but there was no answer.

Then I heard footsteps, and my heart jumped. For a split second I had thought Alma had heard me, but I realized that the steps were too hard and fast to be his. I hadn't heard him run before, but I imagined that if he did he would have soft and nimble footfalls like a rabbit would.

I whirled around and suddenly Allen was in front of me. He had rushed at me so fast that he had practically knocked me over, but fortunately I reacted quick enough to avoid falling straight to the ground.

"Lucidia." Allen spoke quickly, and he was out of breath; he had been in a hurry for longer than a few seconds. "Good, I found you."

Timcanpy fluttered swiftly behind him, circling a little bit anxiously on long, glittering wings.

"Where is Alma?" Allen asked urgently.

"I don't know!" Now I was beginning to cry of fright. "He was here, but he disappeared when I couldn't see…"

"Don't worry." Allen was trying to calm me down, but he couldn't keep his voice even. "We'll find him. We're not in any more immediate danger. I found what I needed to, so we should get out of here as quickly as possible."

"Innocence?" I inquired quietly.

Allen put a finger slowly to his lips, so I shut my mouth. "Go ahead, Tim," he told his golem, and Timcanpy flitted hurriedly forward – evidently he, too, wanted to leave this place.

I gradually convinced my ears to stand up, but all I could hear were Allen's footsteps and Timcanpy's fluttering wings. I was afraid to call out again for some reason, as though if I did so Allen might leave me behind.

Allen slowly picked up the pace. We were walking for a long time – what felt like hours, but I couldn't be sure – and I couldn't even tell whether we were traveling in a straight line. Timcanpy's glimmer ahead was hopeful, but I still felt a little sick.

Timcanpy suddenly disappeared from view. I panicked a bit, as Allen was now running. I didn't have the energy to keep up with him. I tried to jog a little, but my legs were out of motivation.

Unexpectedly Allen stopped and stood. When I caught up with him, Alma was lying at his feet, as though he had been tossed there carelessly by something much bigger. My heart skipped two beats. "Is he dead?"

"No, just exhausted. He won't die." Allen's tone was more soothing and relaxed now. I didn't know what to think of Allen's calmness, since I didn't know what to think of myself, either.

I sank to my knees next to Alma. His face was turned downwards into the dust. Without thinking I gently brushed his hair aside – it was softer than it looked – and almost jumped to my feet when I noticed he was looking at me. Had he been able to see me? His eyes were half-closed and half-focused, as though he was about to fall asleep. His neck was twisted at an awkward angle; I imagined it was painful for him to turn his face up like that.

He didn't speak for a while. After silently debating with myself, I decided to turn him over and let his head rest against my arm. His eyes didn't move from mine the whole time, so it was no wonder I felt as though I was being watched very closely.

I swept his hair aside again, and he suddenly asked, "Don't you remember me?"

I hesitated. His voice was quiet, as if it hurt for him to use it, but serious and deliberate. The question was honest, and I couldn't think of what would make him want to voice it.

"Of course I do," I replied. I realized my voice was faltering as well. I felt my hand move to his face and stroke it gently, even though I hadn't told it to. His skin was smooth and flawless, as though nothing and nobody had ever touched it before.

A weak smile glimmered in his cerulean eyes. I had never gotten this close a look at them. I couldn't even begin to count all of the blues; his slit, catlike pupils had frightened me at first, but by now I was used to their feline appearance.

"Good," he murmured. His eyes closed slowly, not as if he was dying, but as though he wanted to take a nap. He rested his head softly against my arm as though he really had fallen asleep. The stripes settled on his face until he was almost perfectly still. Only the gentle whisper of his breathing suggested that he was still alive.

Alma's face was so peaceful that my heart refused to beat any further. I felt like crying, but I couldn't draw the breath to.

"Lucidia." Allen's voice startled me but at least I could breathe again. "Let's go. Can you carry him?"

I almost said no; I couldn't lift much weight at all, but I was reluctant to move more than a few inches from Alma very quickly.

I recalled the night Alma had carried me to the roof. Could I do the same for him now? I slid my right arm under his knees and hesitated briefly; his strange, knobby legs were unfamiliar to my hand. I allowed my other hand to fall to his shoulders, and I almost dropped him; Alma's back was sharp where his spine and shoulder blades protruded. I thought for a moment I might be holding a skeleton. I forced my arms to support him before I ran my eyes down his form. I had noticed before that he was thin, but now he seemed smaller than I had acknowledged. Apart from some muscle near his shoulders, Alma's arms were little more than skin and bone. His hands didn't even look connected to his wrists; I felt as though I could pull one right off if I wanted to. I could clearly see where his last two ribs met his skin, not far from where a pair of purple stripes encircled his ribcage and flowed around his torso to the base of his tail.

Again without thinking, I stood up and brought Alma with me. He felt lighter than was physically possible.

My ears pressed against my head. Here I was, responsible for Alma's life; a simple human like me holding an akuma, the most dangerous of all existing creatures. I felt terribly small, and I couldn't stop my legs from shaking.

Alma's head rested contentedly near my shoulder. I studied his face, which again resulted in my breath catching in my throat. I realized it might be a while before I could speak to him again. Then I told myself that there was no need to speak – he already knew most everything I needed to tell him.

I noticed how close together our faces were – somehow the lack of distance hadn't been obvious until just now. It was comforting for Alma's presence to be so steady and sure. I wondered whether he would let me this close if he was awake enough to have a part in the decision. For a fleeting moment I wondered how close I could get to him. In the next moment, the thought seemed stupid. It was in that next moment, however, that I kissed Alma softly. I had the rest of the walk back to think about what I had done.

I didn't think much at all, though. It was almost as though I had been sleepwalking; I remembered nothing of the journey until we were suddenly in a room I assumed we had visited that morning. It was dark outside – the only light came from a tall, brave candle that seemed determined to illuminate the whole space by itself. I was perched at the foot of a bed on which Alma was lying peacefully unconscious. The only other bed in the room was empty. The Finder had disappeared again, and Allen was standing in the opposite corner looking rather spaced out.

I sat in silence trying to remember anything about the walk back, but my brain was hopelessly muddled. I busied myself with ensuring that Alma wasn't lying on his tail or cutting off its circulation, though after a few seconds I just had to accept that I was too sleepy to do anything useful.

"Allen," I piped up, "has Alma always been this thin? He's wasted." I had to consciously tell myself not to reach for his hand and make sure it was still attached.

I could feel tension in the air; I guessed Allen had looked around to confirm that the Finder wasn't here before answering. "He never got much for sustenance when he was young. Even after the Millenium Earl got a hold of him, he was probably only just kept alive for the nine years he was asleep. He hasn't eaten anymore, anyway, since he is an akuma."

_Nine years? _I echoed silently. That was an awfully long time... I didn't know what to think about such a span of time – it was farther back than a majority of what I could remember.

"But Lucidia," Allen started again, "that was something that surprised me a little – that you care for Alma even though you know he's an akuma. Why do you feel that way, even with that knowledge?"

I finally looked at Allen, unsure of how to respond. I barely even considered why Allen was asking such a question. "Well, I guess it is strange, but it doesn't really matter to me. He doesn't act like one at all. He really isn't an akuma – not on the inside, I mean. He doesn't think that way."

_On the outside, he is an akuma_, I reminded myself. At first the thought made me feel sick again, but the sensation faded quickly. What if Alma had been a human on the outside, too? After a few moments I realized the idea was, of all things, frightening. I almost shivered trying to imagine a world where Alma was painted in dull human grays, a world where he had no tail or ears to speak of. I had to force any further thoughts out of my mind. I concluded, as outlandish as it was, that I would rather Alma be an akuma than a human. He seemed to have purer heart than most humans – more of a desire to protect what was important to him because he was aware of how easily he could lose it. And another trait that, to tell the truth, had been a major answer to Allen's question, but one I was too nervous to begin to speak to anybody about other than Alma himself. At least to me, Alma was very beautiful, more than any other human or akuma that ever lived. I always got a nauseous feeling when I reminded myself of that, as though it was the wrong thing to think, but it was really the first thing I always came up with when I thought of Alma.

I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep until I awoke sideways on the bed. The first thing I noticed was that my neck hurt because of my awkward position. The next was that Alma was gone.

By now I had learned not to panic whenever he vanished spontaneously. Alma didn't sleep, so he had no reason to hang around in here if he was awake and nobody else was. I started to make myself more comfortable in the bed when I heard his voice mumble my name. I sat up promptly, thinking I was imagining things – he sounded as though he was right on top of me. I quickly noticed that he was simply standing in the doorway, his tail swishing silently in the darkness.

I approached him as quietly as I could, trying not to wake whoever else was asleep. "Is something the matter?"

"Come with me." He stepped backwards into the total darkness – I didn't even hesitate to follow.

Alma led me outside. The sky was still a deep, dusky blue; expanding splotches of gray explained why no stars were visible.

Alma leaned thoughtfully against the wall. "Sorry for waking you up like that. I just get lonely at night."

"Don't apologize," I told him automatically. "I don't mind staying awake for your sake."

No response. The silence was only occasionally broken by the quiet swish of Alma's tail curving near the ground.

"This place -" he began quietly, "I've almost been here before. The place where I fought with Yu… was a lot like this. I know I'm not there, because that place is very far from here, but I still don't like the feeling of being here." He carefully inspected his feet. "That's why I stopped us yesterday."

"That's not good." That was the only response I could find. It wasn't exactly the most assuring, either.

"I just wish none of that ever happened. I never wanted to be an akuma, I never wanted to fight Yu, and I never wanted to kill all of those exorcists or hurt anybody. I wish I could have stayed dead when Yu killed me."

"Don't say that," I protested. His eyes were closed now – I was afraid he was going to start crying again. "This is going to sound really strange, Alma, but I'm glad you're an akuma."

He looked toward me, evidently startled. "Why?"

"Humans are boring," I replied. "In fact, just recently I was trying to think of what it would like if you were a human, and… I got really scared." My eyes started to fall, but I forced them to stay on his face. "I don't want you to change, Alma. Please stay how you are. I'm glad you're here. I'm glad I met you."

Alma's blue gaze moved away. "You're the only one who thinks that way, aren't you? Yu isn't even my friend anymore."

I felt my ears tilt to one side before I could find out what they were trying to say. "So? Just me is enough, isn't it? I really don't want you to leave, Alma. Please don't think like that."

"I guess so." Alma turned himself away from me – the scale on his shoulder almost smacked me in the face. "You are persistent. You refuse to ignore me, even though you know I could be dangerous to you."

"Allen said the same thing," I told him evenly. "I know you wouldn't hurt me, Alma. You wouldn't hurt anybody. You already said yourself you don't want to kill anyone. You have a good heart. You don't even act like an akuma, so it doesn't matter whether you are one or not."

A little bit of the sadness left his eyes. "I guess it doesn't. I'm still different from everybody else, though. A lot of people back at the Black Order avoid me. Only a few of them like Allen and Yu know who I am, because they were there and they somehow survived. I haven't told anybody else about me, but they're only more afraid of me because they don't know what to think."

He suddenly looked back at me. "You weren't afraid of me when you first met me, Lucidia. Why were you different?"

I shrugged casually. "Because I liked you when I first met you. Plus, I've learned a lot previously not to be scared of people until you have a good reason." I smiled mischievously. "To me, you just weren't all that intimidating. I can't certainly say the same for anyone else, though."

Alma began to smile, too. "That's good thinking. Maybe it doesn't matter what anybody else thinks after all." Now he faced me again, as if there was something he wanted to show me. "I never thought that anybody like you might… show up and care for me like that. I thought I was done for."

"It's okay. You're just fine how you are."

Suddenly he was stroking my ears again. "Thanks, Lucidia. You always cheer me up. You're always there for me when I need you. You're a nice girl."

I needed somewhere to lean, and the wall was too cold and hard for me. I wasn't sure if Alma would let me put weight on him, but there was only one way to find out. I slowly let my head rest just below his shoulder – it would be too much of a stretch to reach any higher. He didn't seem to respond – he kept petting my ears as he had been for the last few seconds.

Before now I wasn't aware that Alma smelled like anything in particular. My sense of smell was average, so I didn't think about it much, although when I was this close to Alma I was suddenly aware of an enveloping sweet scent I couldn't describe with words.

"Why are you always sad at night?" I asked his shoulder. "Whenever we talk during the day, you're always so cheerful and happy, but then whenever we meet up at night you're always telling me about your past and how sad it makes you. It makes me sad too, Alma."

There was no answer for a while. I closed my eyes and let his fingers run through the fur on my ears.

"I guess it's because there's nobody else around at night," he finally replied. "You're the only one I can talk to at hours like that, so I feel like I can say more. It's the only time I really ever get to tell anyone about things that make me sad." There was a short pause, and I didn't have to look to know that he had smiled playfully. "Maybe we akuma are nocturnal, too, so we get _really_ emotional at night." His grip was fast and mischievous for a second, and I laughed silently in response.

Eventually his hand stopped moving and just rested there on my head. I thought maybe we could stand there forever, close, not really caring about anything that was around us. There were a lot of stupid questions running through my head; I almost voiced some of them, but I didn't want to force Alma to feel an emotion he didn't want to feel. I told myself that if he wanted to return my feelings, he would do so when the right time came, just as I had that night when Kanda had threatened to kill him.

I was aware of a loud rattling noise that seemed to be reverberating from all around me. I opened my eyes and turned my head so I could see out to the horizon; rain had begun to fall sometime recently, and now it was dropping onto every available inch of ground. The roof's edge above Alma and me protection from the drizzle, but if I stepped out any farther I would get wet very quickly.

"Should we go inside?" I murmured. I didn't really care if we did stay out here, but I was starting to get sleepy again.

"Not yet," Alma replied, his voice equally hushed. "It hasn't rained for a long time." He extended one hand until the droplets fell loosely onto his palm. His wrist appeared hollow; the veins connecting to his arm were clearly visible beneath his violet skin, and the edges of the bone protruded from each side like little mountains.

I leaned back into Alma's warmth. Right now I had no desire to get wet. I wanted to sleep, too, but there wasn't any way I was going to leave him out here in the dismal weather. "Let's go back."

"Okay." He hesitated a little, but in the end he relented and followed me closely back to the room.

Eventually I did manage to sleep that night. Alma lingered near the bed until my eyes closed for good, so I didn't get to see whether he went back outside. He was standing in the nearest corner when I awoke as though he had been waiting for me to return from somewhere very far away. Allen and the Finder were already up. Alma seemed wary of them for some reason.

Our little group went outside for a bit before we had to leave. The rain had stopped since last night, but the earth was still a little damp and clouds remained in the sky, as if they were afraid to leave something behind. Allen and the finder stepped out further to stretch and look around; I hung back until Alma was close enough that I could feel his presence.

A light tapping sounded from somewhere above me. I looked up – perched on the roof a few feet above our heads was a pair of crows. One was sitting rather nonchalantly and surveying its surroundings, occasionally pausing to itch a feather somewhere. The other was strutting back and forth along the edge of the roof as though it was considering jumping off but never quite had the courage to do so. The two seemed to completely ignore each other, but at the same time they acted like friends and subconsciously refused to stray too far from one another. The strutting crow would always stop at some invisible, preset boundary and turn back to its companion before it could wander off.

"More crows," I mumbled fondly. The birds now reminded me of the evening I had spent with Alma a while ago. It seemed like I was recalling that time a lot lately, but I wasn't sure why. Somehow, even though I had only met him a few weeks ago at the longest, he had already given me so much for which I was grateful.

By now Alma was watching the crows too – silently, but thoughtfully. I turned from them and glanced at Allen. He almost seemed to have forgotten us; he was looking out at the landscape and evidently had no interest in birds. Timcanpy stuck firmly to his shoulder – I guessed that the golem was probably afraid of crows, since knowing the birds they would probably snatch him up and eat him or stare at him for a while before letting him go.

Only a few more seconds passed in silence before the feathers fluttered behind me and the crows darted overhead, their path set for some far-off horizon.

Then suddenly Alma was in front of me, grinning brightly. His posture was straight and confident, but he was clearly excited. "Let's see where they're going!"

I glanced down. At about my shoulder height Alma's hand was extended invitingly. I barely thought before I set my fingertips on his, and then we were off.

Initially I had trouble keeping up with his pace, but after a few longer strides I managed to match it. I heard Allen call after us, although the wind was too loud in my ears for me to hear what he was saying. We ran for a while, the whole time keeping our eyes on the birds flying not far above us. They still easily outsped us, but it was thrilling to see how close we could get to soaring ourselves. Alma gripped my hand tightly the whole time.

Eventually my heart was pounding harder than it had in a while. That was when Alma stopped and just flopped onto his back, his sky-blue eyes glued to the retreating black forms of the crows. He was still smiling, and the last twelve inches of his tail were swishing back and forth faster than I had seen them move before. His chest rose and fell with his quick breath, but this time it didn't seem so close to breaking.

I watched the crows disappear into the gray horizon before sitting down next to Alma. By then my heartbeat had slowed to a normal pace. "I guess we'll never find out."

"But we got close, didn't we?" His eyes had moved to the light, fluffy clouds directly overhead. "That has to count for something."

"It was fun. It's been a while since I've run that fast."

Alma rolled to his feet and stood up. "We should probably be getting back. Allen is going to be mad at us for running off like that." Again, he held out his hand, I rose to my feet, took it promptly, and we were off.


	5. Part Five: Crows are Like Girls

Apparently, crows are like snotty, gossiping girls, but I never thought of them that way.

Whenever I saw crows effortlessly flying or perched on a branch without a care in the world, I didn't think of those adolescents who do nothing but make light of others. I always thought of a crow as just another bird, living for nothing but himself and his family, paying no heed to the arbitrary stigma branded upon it by foolish humans.

The crows seem especially purposeful when spring comes along. I recall last spring when I stood near a squat evergreen listening to unfamiliar, unseen birds whose squeaks sounded not unlike the giggling of a clown. I assumed they must be a flock of tiny sparrows, peeping to each other during a search for delectable morsels. I spent a few minutes contemplating these little feathered friends until a black shape in the sky caught my attention. By the way it slid through the air on broad, tireless wings, I instantly recognized it as another crow. It was silhouetted brightly against a drab, cloudy sky until it suddenly landed in the bristly bush of the evergreen not more than a few feet from my eyes. Completely ignoring my presence, it readjusted its beak to gain a better hold of whatever unknown food it was carrying and gave a hop into the tree like the jump offstage of a famous dancer. I blinked at where it had just been and replayed the scene in my head. The squeaking from the inside of the tree silenced; baby crows, their identities previously unknown, were now fed and happy.

Curious, I tucked my head under the tree's lowest branches and looked up into a tangle of green and brown. The only telltale sign of a nest was a clump of darkness in the crook of a few strong limbs; the crow mother and her children were well hidden, cradled in the protection of that evergreen even from prying eyes such as mine.

You can't honestly insist that the mother and her young are snotty, gossiping girls waiting to attack. Human girls only seek their own enjoyment, even at the cost of others' dignity. They crouch in the shadows of hallways and whisper to each other, waiting for their next victim. They are more like vultures, but even then, vultures are more pleasant and selfless.

Even though that was last spring, the memory of the mother crow arriving home to her young ones is still fresh in my mind, almost as though it happened yesterday. I knew it couldn't have happened yesterday, though, because yesterday I was on a train, and I wasn't alone.

Upon setting foot back in the Black Order, Alma distastefully tore off his cloak as though it had been the stigma of a gossiping girl.

I gradually wandered back towards my room, occasionally taking outside routes as I did so. I never looked back as I walked, but the whole time I could feel Alma following closely, the inky smudge of a cloak draped over one forearm.

He stopped behind me on one of the balconies. By now Allen and whoever else had decided to watch had split off, so the outside world was bare and alone. Clouds relentlessly obscured the sun, dyeing the icy world below a flat gray. I felt his presence pause and I stopped too; I wondered what could distract him so easily.

He looked out over the undulating landscape of forest and silver land. An unexpectedly warm breeze rushed by us. It played amiably with his hair, and his fingers brushed the wind gently aside, like a bird's feathers stirring the sky in flight. For a moment, the simile became real: slim, graceful flight feathers swept over the sky-colored stripe flowing down his face: a tear frozen in time.

His spare hand lowered from his ear, and I realized I was staring again.

"It's almost spring," he murmured, his eyes flicking to mine. "Isn't it?"

I watched him for a while until another wind tickled the inside of my ears and I sneezed.

"I'll take that as a yes." Alma smiled gently.

I shook myself off and continued inside. At some point during my walk Alma disappeared; suddenly when I looked back he was gone.

It seemed as though, if only for an instant, Alma had been a crow, fluffing his feathers absently into the air if only to scatter the stigma that surrounded his kind.


End file.
